As the Ranger's steps take her closer to the mouth of the cave, she looks around for one of the Dragonriders who is bedding down but not quite asleep yet.  She wants to see if she can borrow one of those 'serious harness working' knives.

There is a group of three on guard at the entrance, and one or two more elsewhere. One is T'lon, who approaches when he sees she wants something. "Lady, they say that the floating woman looked at the cave the whole time, but I know we saw her looking towards us."

"Hmmm.  J'rim said that too.  But you're right, T'lon.  I saw her looking towards us when we snuck around the side way."  The ranger speaks loud enough so that the others in the doorway can hear her, but not loudly enough to be obviously projecting or waking up sleepers.
            "Could I borrow your knife, T'lon?  I promise I'll treat it nice."  Robin grins innocuously.

He nods and grins back. "Don't stick it in anything you can't get it out of...unless you have to." He hands her his knife.

She winks.  "I'm planning on murdering some trees... maybe some grasses... we'll see what gets in my way."
            "Uhhh, you guys didn't recognize her right?  The floating lady?  I mean, she wasn't one of your former opponents, was she?"

"Our most recent former opponents included living machines, wyverns that turned into dragons and then into clouds, and the bad side of J'lin's family. Of the flying women we've seen, the ones without wings were on our side. And none of them looked much like tonight's version, although it could've been the light."

"Hmmmm."  Robin takes in T'lon's words thoughtfully.  "I haven't run into anyone particularly floaty lately.  But... she didn't feel like a local... and you're right again," she grins and winks, "*I* think it was the light too."
            "Oh well, I'm off to get myself dressed.  Can I get you anything?  Spear?  Throwing darts?"  The Ranger's perky smile seems to light up the darkening cavern.

He looks at you. "Thanks, I'm set." He says. "'Get yourself dressed,' Lady? M'hall's orders are that nobody go out alone. Do you need an escort? I can fetch Janel if you would prefer a women."
            Robin has the feeling that he won't press the issue if she does not wish to follow the orders, but that he wants to be sure that he has told her what they were.

Robin's green eyes spark in anger, though it's obviously not directed at T'lon.  She turns her face to the ceiling and takes a deep breath.  Pushing bandaged hands through her short hair, the Ranger fights her temper.
            'Come on, Robin.  It's a sensible... request.'  She mentally upbraids herself as her gaze drops back to the floor and the deep breath goes out.  'Besides, many tons of large flying fire-breathing telepathic backup.  Not a bad idea.'
            She grins up to T'lon.  "Okay.  This time I'll listen to M'hall's 'suggestion.'  But... how long has it been since you rested, T'lon?  Not that I don't enjoy your company."

"In one sense, we've never rested, Lady. We have been at war with our homeland's mindless, implacable enemy for centuries, no one here remembers before it started again. We've beaten everything the universe had to throw at us, including the things J'rim and J'lin had us fight. A few more days of duty and not enough sleep will hardly matter.
            "In the sense you mean, Lady, I can tell you we were having a picnic and a swim this evening when a storm came up that J'rim said came from someone in his family. If half of us weren't nursing wounds, we'd be ready to fight tonight."

Robin listens to T'lon's words, a wry half-smile playing at the corners of her lips though her eyes are serious.  Through her mind plays the memory of her own life, lived fighting and protecting Amber's borders from whatever shadow had to throw, from whatever traitorous princes decided to dredge up, and finally...  the girl's mind shies away from the last.  But still, she recognizes in T'lon what is in her Rangers and in herself.
            "Fair enough, Dragonrider.  And understood."  Robin nods.
            Then breaks into a grin, and whaps the man playfully on the upper arm.  "But since I don't have a wonderfully large and capable companion, I want to make sure that the next time I decide to frolic late into the night I'm dressed in more than an iron poker."
            "Soooo, you're welcome to come watch me tear up the local landscape if you want."

T'lon nods and waves broadly at 'outdoors'. "Then lead on." He says.

Robin smiles and heads out.

(The Ranger will be using her woodsy skills to arm herself; atlatl with a dozen or so small throwing spears with quiver, 2 bolas, lasso/lariat.  She'd also like to collect a dozen or so seagull feathers.

All doable. You have what you want.

Next she'd like to peek back into the cavern to make really sure that Jovian is asleep.  Then she'll do one of two things;
            #1) If there's a tree or a hill or something (if necessary, Robin'll tweak the shadow to make sure there is) that she can get a view of the Chancellory or the Temple from, she'll go there.  Get the place in her sights and begin working with the Pattern.  

You can find such a place, but it's a good ways walk. A watch or so to get to it, in the dark, with everything soaked.

What she's aiming for is an unseasonable deluge - something cold, wet and penetrating, steady seeping and evil.  Something that turns the ground to a horrible sucking mud and makes flagstones slick and dangerous.

Possible, but it will take some time. A watch. or so, with duration of a day. You'd be cutting some corners to get this and it's not necessarily safe, or controllable. In this it is not unlike last night's efforts.

#2)  If the above is not possible, Robin could spend her time conjuring a whole lot of killer spy seagulls.  :)  Birds through who's eyes she can see and who have a rabid dislike for women with staffs (Robin will try to implant the difference between a staff and a broom or carrying yoke.  She doesn't want them attacking the local working women, but...)

Birds are your friends, and you can do pattern conjuration, but this probably wouldn't produce "a whole lot" in a usable timeframe.)

The Ranger strides off into the sodden night, mayhem on her mind.  But first... T'lon's knife and the local trees meet.  Soon Robin is armed with an atlatl and a brace of small throwing spears - including two 'screamers' primarily used as signals by the forces of Arden.  Quick tanned fingers weave the tough shore grasses into a lariat.  And with the addition of a few fist-sized stones, the Ranger adds a pair of bolas to her growing arsenal.
            Despite the fact that her allies are huge and firebreathing, Robin is determined that if she ever meets a 'witch-queen' she's going to be able to do something more effective than glare menacingly.
            The whole time, the girl keeps up a friendly conversation with T'lon if he so wishes.  Companionable silence if he does not.  Though she will make the point to ask what his bonded's name is, what color, etc.

T'lon is not too silent at first, but rapidly becomes, if not acceptable to Robin, at least 'not embarrassing'. Men who fly Dragons are not by nature quiet.

Neither is Robin, despite her recent past.  She takes this opportunity to be happy, laugh, talk and play in the dark rain with a stranger.

He speaks of his Dragon, Brown Peneth, and their Weyr on a sea-cliff like this, but higher and warmer. He is very open about his bond between himself and Peneth. She has known men and women married over a hundred years who are not as close.

This brings quiet smiles from the ranger.  If there's one thing she believes in, it's passion.  And lately, Jovian's decision to live his life in such a way as to never be lonely... well, that is making more and more sense to her.
            So more power to the dragonriders and their companions.

Along the way, the girl collects several seagull feathers from the surrounding area.  And once, she's satisfied with the size, variety and effectiveness of her weapons, she settles herself near the mouth of the cave.
            Unconsciously she reaches for her ocarina.  Her pale brows furrow momentarily and eyes flash green as she pats her empty pocket.  But after a moment, she calms down and gazes out over the night sea.
            Lips pursed, a mournful tune begins to emerge from the Ranger; a song of the sea, seeping damp and cold, lifting into the air like a fog, and falling like a heavy rain.  Along her nerves the fire of the Pattern glows, bringing her mood into the night air.

And the clouds that had parted roll back up, although they seem erratic.  Robin sings for a long time, T'lon tells her it was over an hour, and the rain comes and it is full and fat and heavy. T'lon just watches.

After that song has twined into the dark water, Robin's song begins to lighten.  It becomes filled with the furl of wings, the call of seabirds, the float and hover, the dive and skirl.  Through deft hands, the daughter of Julian runs the feathers she has collected, calling to herself the gulls of soul.

After a few hours of weapons making, a few hours of rain making, and a few hours of bird making, Robin starts actually feeling the day.  Gathering up a few unfortunate fish that have been tossed onto the beach by the inclement weather, Robin strides back toward the cave.  But not into it.  Oh no.
            With a grin at her own behavior and a wink to T'lon, Robin settles herself down under some overhanging trees.  Shortly thereafter two large and vicious looking seagulls grumpily join her in the slightly less damp grotto.
            Feeding the fish to the seagulls, Robin croons and caws to the birds, commiserating about the foul weather.  Looking up to T'lon, she grins.
            "I'm going to be camping out here, T'lon.  And as you can see, I'm not alone.  If you want to get back to a warm bed with Peneth... I wouldn't want you to get sick 'cause of my bad habits."

He shrugs. "Somewhere, that way, I guess, the sun's fixing to rise. I'll do better with some Klah than an hour's rack time. I'm not counting on J'rim and Kourin letting us laze over brunch when we've got a medium high muckety muck who we're tapped to rescue." He pauses. "Peneth is awake. He'll be coming out in a moment. Big lug wants a morning swim before we do whatever it is you and J'rim have cooked up for us."

Robin shudders dramatically at the 'swim' line with a playful grimace.  "Say good morning to the lug for me, will you?"

T'lon nods and his eyes unfocus for a moment. The dragon passes over her camp and the birds squawk querulously. She's sure that if the rain weren't pounding down, she'd hear a tremendous splash as the giant dragon hit the water.
            T'lon bids her good night and returns to the cave.

Robin settles herself further, aiming for a quick catnap as opposed to a cup of stimulant, no matter how good that sounds.

The night passes uneventfully, and Robin's 'catnap' and Jovian's 'seven hours rack time' end roughly simultaneously. T'lon and several early risers have cooked up a not entirely dissatisfactory substitute for Klah.

People who are used to and like Klah think this is bad Klah. To Robin, it's as good as any other stimulating beverage. Breakfast is reheated fish rolls from last night. Most of the riders think they were better last night.

Siege seems to have armed himself with something that their pursuers carried. He has managed to shave and cut his hair. If it weren't for the bruises and the cuts and the occasional wince, one would hardly know he's spent a month in a cell and hours on a battlefield.
            Siege is impressed, and asks about how one gets a demon to ride and are there any particular bargains one has to make.

(I presume he's still got that speech impediment that makes 'demon' come out sounding like 'dragon'...?

Yeah, that's probably the case. :) )

Jovian explains the bargain quite contentedly - you have to agree, as an adolescent, to feed him, bathe and care for his hide, put up with his sense of humor and love him unconditionally. Which isn't too onerous since he'll love you unconditionally in turn, keep you from ever being lonely, and will literally stand with you in the arms of death, come the time. Apart from the more obvious advantages.

Siege nods at this.

* * *

The city is hard to spy on while flying due to the storm, but there are also no stars or moons for the dragons to occlude, either.

The timing of this run is for when L'tarn realize(s|d) he (was|is) time stressed (last|to)night. Which, IIRC, (was|is) at a moderate lull in the storm, after a brief break in the clouds that permitted the moon to light up a redhead of our acquaintance. Still dark, but a wee bit less wet than all that. How quickly (did|are) conditions destabiliz(e|ing)?

Based on what the guards report, you have a watch or so before the rain started getting really heavy again. The moonlight never broke through the clouds here, which is a bit disturbing to you. You wonder if shadow is...being affected.))

No one can hear anything and the town is battened down in the raging storm, so it is hard to evaluate either the fleet or the town. Jovian's time-sense is the only way to tell if you've timed it right, since the normal clues (star rotation, sun/moon, seasons) are not clear.
            There is a lighthouse at some point on the harbor's edge, or nearby to it.  It is lit by fire and reflected into the water by large mirrors.
            There are ships in the harbor, but it's not easy to say how many. Fewer than in Amber's harbor, at a guess.

((How many of a size to be warships? How many showing lanterns or other signs of activity? Are any visibly armed, e.g. with <ahem> siege equipment? (As contrasted with Siege equipment, about which I'll leave others to inquire.) ))

((Most of 'em. No lanterns. No visible equipment on decks, unless you want to fly close.))

There are a few other lights. Some buildings may have glass windows, but most, no matter what they are made of, are shuttered tight against the heavy, cold, rain. There is one well-lit tower that is clearly part of the defenses of the city. It has lights and Siege indicates that it is the citadel.

//Maranth says that L'tarn thinks we could swim in, if you want a closer look at the ships. We are already very wet.//

//It's a bit choppy for humans to snorkel, else I'd consider it.//

Robin's enjoying this ride almost as much as she did with J'rim and Canareth.  She won't 'surf' though, but it's obvious that the rain doesn't bother her at all.
            She would indicate to L'tarn though, that'd she like a closer look at the citadel if it could be arranged.

"If it weren't stone, I'd light it on fire for you."

"Oooo!"  Robin coos in delight.  "You say the sweetest things, bronzerider."  She grins to L'tarn in the wild wetness of the night.

L'tarn does not reply. He is concentrating either on his dragon or on his flying.

"Your brother gives us the go ahead." He says and Maranth turns into a tight downward spiral.
            "Your brother. That'll be a big surprise to a few people when we get home." L'tarn goes quiet for a moment, then decides not to dwell on the question.

A soft cynical snort escapes the Ranger as well at her own private thoughts.

"Maranth may have to be our eyes. He sees better than us and will notice trouble before we do."

Robin's blonde head nods in understanding, though the girl uses her own eyes as well to the best of her ability.  

The dragon flies down, getting closer to the citadel. It is short and squat and looks as if it would not give purchase on the roof to man nor to dragon. "Looks defensible from airborne attacks, " says L'tarn. "We can't stay here for long, they'll spot us."

"I hear you."  Robin softens her voice with a smile as she croons to Squawk and Heeek reassuringly, telling them they are big brave gulls and that she's very proud of them and such.  Her own green eyes are scanning both the structure and the surrounding grounds for weaknesses that the unseasonable rain and/or a small earthquake could exploit to their fullest.  The girl is also looking for tracks a sudden, swift and unfortunate fire might run along.

Robin notices that the roof seems to be sturdily constructed, as if they expected attacks from above. There are several promising tracks for flames to traverse, and Robin makes note of them, but remembers that she will soon be/have caused it to rain really hard here. Also, Robin is no architect or engineer, but the building seems odd. She doesn't know why it stands up without collapsing, but it does.
            "Well, dung!" The girl mutters under her breath in exasperation.  "Looks like Jovian gets his war.  But ya know, I was really hoping for a quick in-and-out.  Damn efficient-types - always making things difficult."  Robin tch's her tongue and shakes her head, a rueful chuckle going through her.
            "Okay, I've seen enough.  Thanks Maranth.  Thanks L'tarn.  You can grab some sky if you want."

Maranth pushes his wings almost lazily, beating into the air. He climbs effortlessly back into the sky.
            "Right. We'll see what his Lordship wants us to do next..."

Canareth says //L'tarn says your sister has seen what she was looking for.  Maranth thinks she is like a bird. They wish to know if we are done here.//
   
The rain is starting to pick up a bit. And it doesn't seem to be quite natural.

//I don't think we're quite done, but we're done *here* for the present. I want to land and confer with the four of us face to face, before returning to normal time.// Jovian scans the outlying area, picks a landing spot with no good sight-line to the city and directs Canareth there, with instructions for Maranth to follow.
            When the two dragons and four humans are able to talk in normal tones, Jovian summarizes what he's seen of the harbor - an armada of some 50 to 60 ships including men o'war and support vessels, hardly any with hands on deck at this hour and in this weather.

Robin is a little grimmer with her results.  A locked-up-tight citadel of rather sturdy architecture that she wouldn't care to break into without a... something.  On the plus side, it doesn't look like they're scheduling any outdoor sacrifices soon.  The girl is finding herself kind of dry on short term ideas.  She is absolutely confident that given a week the place would be hers, but tomorrow/today?  Maybe the day after, but not today/tomorrow.  Dung!

"I want those ships so badly I can taste it," Jovian thinks aloud with a smile for Robin. "One dragon could tow each one away - we could make off with 15 or 20 ships, with covering fire, easy as a walk in the park. The only problem would be keeping the crews bottled up inside the ships while we make off with them; once we were away we could take care of them one crew at a time."

"Oh, Jovian!  Thank you!"  Robin claps her hands in delight and drops a kiss on her brother's cheek.

The dragonrider shakes his head. "If we had just three or four people who knew those ships well, could be dropped on board to dog down hatches and fix tow ropes, we could pull it off." He looks to Siege, not exactly hopefully, but gauging his reaction to such demonic tactics.

Siege looks up. "Might work. How do you stop the witch-queens? Or do we do this so fast that they don't come into it? That's always a risky plan, but sometimes audacity is the best plan. Too bad we can't sink them quickly from below and raise them later..."

"Speed was exactly the idea," Jovian nods. "Make off with a third of the fleet in one pass of the lighthouse beam - and keep ten or so of the dragons free to harry anyone who comes out in time. But we don't have the spare *hands,*" he complains.
            The wingleader turns to L'tarn. "Maranth said something about swimming in close to the fleet. Your idea or his?" The tone of this does not welcome wise-assing around.

"His. Not sure I'd want to swim in on Maranth and I'm not sure I want to be away from him either. I think not wanting to be separated from him during the battle is more than 50% out of concern for his hide, but I'm not saying how much more."

"Noted," Jovian nods with a mildly sour note in his voice, dismissing from his mind visions of reptilian submarines hulling the fleet.

"Even if that can't work," he thinks aloud, "this still feels like a good time to hit, with everyone huddled up. We could glide right in and start the fireworks at exactly the moment we choose."

"Hmmm... it's gonna take a lotta fire to keep working with what's coming up though."  Robin murmurs to herself.  "Annnnnd... "
            "Jove?  I've got an 'it's quiet, too quiet' feeling about plan B.  Ships, yay!  Starting fireworks... something's not quite right and I don't know what.  Yet."
            The ranger bites her lips as her eyes wander off.  "They're... defended against aerial attack... There's obvious fire-trails in a citadel otherwise pretty sound... Except for I'm not sure why the walls are standing... "  Oh, she's mulling it over.

"The abilities of these...witch-queens," Jovian says the word as if it tastes funny, "has shaped the architecture, no doubt. Flying foes? Nothing new there. The walls are probably planned with magical support in mind. And it wouldn't surprise me if those obvious fire-trails were defensive, maybe even part of an active defense. A full frontal on the citadel would be a Bad Move, no question."
            Jovian does that characteristic peering-into-distance thing he does.  "The question is, how well can you sneak in? That may require a closer look from the ground." He is not happy about that thought.

"Well, we snuck *out*" says Siege. He's grinning.

"Absolutely."  Robin smiles as well.  "Of course, we can't sneak back in that way.  They'll be watching the sewers now.  And they'll have a lot more water to try and flush us out with.  But... there's always the ventilation shafts.  Unless, dear Siege, you know some of the back paths of Grandma's citadel."  She winks.

"Water. Damn the water," the wingleader mutters, scowling at the heavy clouds. It dawns on him again that there is something he doesn't like at all about this weather.    
            "Robin, are you still doing this back at the cave while the rest of us sleep?" he asks aloud, frowning deeply. "Heavy rain doesn't exactly prepare the field for allies whose chief weapon is fire, you know. Nothing for it now," he concludes disgustedly. "We *didn't* stop you, so we *can't*...unless you were interrupted, maybe?"

Robin blinks innocently at Jovian, but can't maintain it and breaks into rueful laughter.  "Jooovvve, if I understand your time talk - nothing interrupted me, so nothing will interrupt me.  Right?"

"Right," Jovian nods. "No paradoxes, it's impossible. Or at minimum, so risky that no one would dare test the theory - the possibilities include being locked in a time-loop so that you would no longer *exist* at any time beyond it." He visibly shudders at this, the only time Robin has ever seen him that flapped.
            (As contrasted with his usual unflappable self....)

"And yeah, maybe a heavy rain doesn't exactly clear the field for fire use.  But it does wonders against siege machinery and overwhelming numbers.  Not to mention reduces visibility for mammal types but not draconic types, offers convenient cover for large aerial targets, keeps the blood trackers indoors, and generally shifts the tactics of this friendly place to something less prepared for.  So, you want to bitch about the rain or work with it?"  Robin smiles up to her brother, her eyes sparkling.

L'tarn looks at the fleet. "Work with the rain... If we don't care about casualties, and by that, I mean their casualties, we could just drop rocks on them. Might not be perfectly accurate, but the ships were pretty tight in the harbor and if we miss, at least we wouldn't be at risk.
            "Do we have any way of taking out that lighthouse?"

Siege looks at Robin. "Lady, I think we can storm the temple. The dragons can cause a big enough stir to roust the witch-queens to defend the place. A quick raid on the temple to rescue Avis and then we are in a much stronger position. I like your man's man's idea of sinking the enemy fleet."

The wingleader cracks a lopsided grin. "That would certainly stir them up. I still think interrupting a public sacrifice is a strong option - it'd put Vianis and Avis both out in the open, for one.  Barring that, I suppose the exact timing isn't critical - though half a candlemark before the defenders' shift-change is a personal favorite."

Robin sets her fists hips and looks around at the trio of grinning warriors around her.  An exasperated purse of her lips is followed by a rueful head-shake and a rolling of green eyes heavenward.
            "Men!" she laughs.  "Oh, alright.  We'll sink the fleet." A wink to Siege.  "We'll storm the citadel." A chuckle to Jovian.  "And we'll knock over the lighthouse.  Dark Reaches!  It's got to be testosterone poisoning.  It's just got to be."  The last is rhetorical.
            "Okay.  Jove, two flights?  One to deal with the fleet.  If your magnificent friends can drop rocks - they can snap off masts and play stick ball with the hulls.  The other - probably smaller, but I suppose that's up to Kourin and maybe M'hall? - to just push the damn thing over. Say... starting bell to be just before dawn? Had we left before then?"

"We don't need to push over the whole lighthouse, just disable the light. That's why I asked whether the glass up top is magically reinforced." He turns his questioning look upon Siege again.

Siege shrugs. "Unless you can use your divine powers to detect it and more importantly, defeat it, I don't see as how that's an issue. You hit it with all you've got and it either breaks or it doesn't. If they're smart and/or paranoid, they'll defend it, but we're not talking about an attack like anything they'll expect from us."

"It's probably going to rain steadily throughout the day.  Get ragged after sunset.  And by midnight regular weather should be re-established.  Witch-queens need line of sight, according to Siege here, so the lowered clouds can be used as baffles."
            "These two lovely gentlemen," Robin nods to where Squawk and Heeek are huddling and hissing underneath the inadequate cover of a nearby bush, "are Witch-Queen hunters.  You guys see them peal off after someone.  Nail her.  Hard and fast."  An evil grin spreads across the Ranger's face before she returns to business once more.

Jovian eyes the annoyed gulls - which he had been wondering about but refused to ask - with a thoughtful look and a less-sardonic-than-Julianic eyebrow.

"If you guys could spare one or two steady-watcher types, Siege and I will probably need a quick pick-up."

The dragonman nods at this.

"In the meantime, oh counter-revolutionary," those green eyes turn on the Commander of the Brotherhood of the Stag, "my brother has been delicately hinting for any partisans you might know of.  Now that we're committed to this little endeavor, do you know of any that might help when you and me sneak into the temple via the sewers to rescue your Lady Commander?"  Robin cocks her head like a bright-eyed bird and awaits the answer.  Answers.

"The people of the City of Temple of the Lady were, in my experience, shockingly cooperative with the invaders. I am sure that after we re-take the town, we will find that there were any number who were loyal to us all along, but I am loathe to risk our plans on the possibility that they may not be so loyal now.
            "So, we are planning on sneaking in to the temple and pulling Avis from her cell? How will you know when we need the diversion?"

L'tarn speaks up. "J'rim, one of us has to go with them. I'd say it should be either you or me. Maranth wouldn't need to spot them, I'd call him in when we needed out."

"Yeah."  Robin confirms to Siege. "Just a sneak in to rescue your Avis. But..." the Ranger's green gaze drifts to L'tarn, "I thought you didn't want to be separated from Maranth."

"He can be separated from Maranth, but sending Maranth into harm's way without his rider - like that submarine attack we half considered - is out of the question. I wouldn't wish the meanest spirit among us to become a dragonless man, sister." Jovian's tone is grave and clearly meant to close *that* subject.

Robin nods as understanding filters into her eyes.

"L'tarn, you're not on the extraction team. Leave that to the scrappiest rider among the greens." He considers a moment. "M'corli and Antrith, I think. I've got a *special* stunt in mind for you and Maranth." A glint in the wing commander's eyes suggests this might be payback time.

He looks away and upward at the lighthouse beacon. "I'd say a middling sized tree trunk, driven into that beacon at the speed of a stooping bronze, should do nicely. Maranth will have to let go and pull up hard  at the last possible second. Sound like fun?"

A snigger escapes Robin.  Oh yes it does.

"Hmm. Still can't go between? As long as we can take some practice shots before we need to bring it down, we can do it. We'll do it."

The Ranger gives L'tarn a big thumbs up.

Jovian considers a moment. "We've timed it safely twice now. I wouldn't want you to do it too often without an Amberite leading you, but I suspect an evasive skip would be all right. Try to avoid it if it's not strictly necessary."

"Right. Dive at a building, carrying a massive tree. Drop Tree on building. Dodge. Try not to have to go between. If I survive, do something else dangerous. I think I'm clear on the plan, at least my part."

Siege looks at Robin. "Are we planning on going into the sewers close to the temple? Or do we go in by the front doors?"

"Weeeelll." She scratches the side of her jaw with a thumb. "You know the tactical layout of the place. If we can go in the front doors, I'd prefer it. But our goal here is to succeed, not to die gloriously." Robin grins to him. "Which way do you think will get the succeeding option done?"

"I wish we could, as well, but it'll be defended if there is a real attack happening. It will be much easier to sneak around the back than to push ourselves ahead of a frontal assault. I could probably lead us back through the caves we entered, but it might take some swimming, if the water is high. At least we can prepare somewhat and take some rope."

Robin looks just... thrilled at that prospect.  There are little lines of happiness forming on her forehead and a teeth-gritted flat line on her lips.

"Or we can break into the sewers in the town and take a short cut, but that might be dangerous."

"Dung!  Oh, deep green shadows and stinking crap piles!"  The Ranger curses to herself quietly.  "Okay fine.  Swimming.  Underground."  The green eyes that look up to Siege have ice under them.
"You're going to keep a good grip on your end of the rope, Siege, right?"  She's willing but she doesn't like it one bit.

"I have not lost a soldier except in combat in many years as a war leader, Lady. Except to treachery." He seems quite confident of himself.

Robin grins despite herself.  "I'm gonna hold you to that.  Or my rotting corpse will rise from the waters to strangle you."  She teases the Danu in a parallel of his earlier humor.

"Siege, have you got a good grip on where your grandmother would keep a small but important item? Something the size of-- Son of a bitch," he cuts himself off, looking mildly chagrinned. He pulls a pasteboard from an inner pocket, one with a familiar equine sigil on one side, a stunningly beautiful strawberry-blonde woman depicted on the other.
            "Something the size of this?"

"Either on her person or in a reliquary in the temple. Especially if it were magic."

"Either way, it's a small team project and I don't know how we coordinate it so that the attack keeps the witch-queens busy while we do it."

L'tarn answers that. "No problem. That's one thing dragonriders are good at, keeping in contact with each other. In any case, let's get back so that we're not spotted. It sounds like we've got the plan down to a 'T'..."

"Well at least to a shaky squiggle that promises lots of room for improvisation."  Robin's grin comes back as she squats and scoops up her grumpy avian friends.